


Poisoned Mask

by Gyrhan



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Blood, Death, Gore, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-09 02:10:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5521559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gyrhan/pseuds/Gyrhan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each with darkness,<br/>each with pride.<br/>All the Yogscast,<br/>All to die.</p><p>As deaths take place across the land of Tekkitopia, the Yogscast band together to try and find the perpetrator. However, the murderer is close; closer than any of them thought...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of a collaboration between myself and imthederpyfox (http://imthederpyfox.deviantart.com/) on Deviantart.
> 
> Such a jolly story to start before Christmas...

Each with darkness,  
each with pride.  
All the yogscast,  
All to die.

Once their friend,  
Now a bane.  
No, not them,  
But inner demons to blame.

Friendly faces,  
Turned to stains.  
A bloody mess,  
A friendly face?

A sliver of deceit,  
A wisp of a lie.  
A grudge and hate,  
Lead all to die.

A lust for revenge,  
A content in scars,  
Killing friends,  
Under the stars.

What has happened to me?  
**SOMETHING FUN**  
What have I become?  
**SOMETHING TO LOVE**  
Something to fear...  
**DONT BE SO DUMB**  
Something to loath.  
**SOMETHING. TO. LOVE!**

 **I'** m **S** o **R** r **Y** , f **R** i **E** n **D** s...


	2. Chapter 2

It was late at night at CaberTown as Rythian headed back towards the secret base. Zoey had gone with Teep to find some more cocoa beans whilst Ravs was busy being mayor of the large village; that included making sure no one tried to murder him to become mayor after him, but he had trusted guards with him to help with that.

Rythian, for once, was content with life; he was away from Lalna and Sjin, the peace treaty having been successful so far. No one had found his secret location and they were all somewhat safe. Yes he may no longer have his magic, yes the Queen of the end was constantly after him, but all in all, it was a peaceful night. For now.

\-------------

As Rythian made his way precariously along the surprisingly strong, Minecraftian lily pads he thought over the upcoming events of tomorrow. He would be meeting with the rest of the Yogscast to announce an official peace treaty. Sjin and Lalna would be there but he trusted the others to keep them in check; the invitation - well more of an order really- had come from their trusted leader, Xephos, so he could be sure that it wasn't a trap at least.

He finally reached the sandstone walls and uttered a short, ancient charm that still worked, even after the disaster, this was most likely because of the fact that it was from before the first civilisations and was used to protect temporary camps so it had to be re-casted every few days. Luckily, only ancient races knew of this charm so no one was likely to get in.

Rythian sorted out all of his equipment, putting his armour into chests and preparing to go to sleep. He hung his powerful sword in its sheath at the end of his bed and stuffed Enderbane under his pillow; yes it was uncomfortable, but it was better than nothing.

Rythian allowed his eyes to slowly droop closed as he was dragged into the deep confines of sleep.

\--------------

The enderborn awoke to the sound of a charm being casted, he recognised it as the charm for entrance to the camp; he managed to tune in on the voice and heard a rough voice that he recognised, but in his half asleep form he couldn't figure out who it was exactly but he supposed that it was Ravs, he did often come in here for supplies anyway.

Rythian let his eyes close again slowly as he listened to the rummaging outside.

\--------------

As the figure outside pretended to look in chests for supplies, he was discreetly listening to Rythian inside the tent and, through the slightly open tent flap, there hung a sword at the foot of the bed, still in its sheath. Perfect.

The figure loitered around outside until they heard the sound of deep, slow breaths, indicating that the target was asleep. They crept up to the tent with more stealth than one might expect and carefully opened the tent flap to see Rythian still fast asleep. Good.

The dark figure reached forwards and grabbed the sheath and unhooked it from the end of the bed.

\---------------

Rythian awoke yet again, but this time to the sound of a sword being unsheathed. His violet eyes shot open and, in front of him, saw a dark shadow looming over him, pointing the enderborn's sword at his chest.

He saw a manic grin appear upon the familiar face of the person above him as the blade was thrust forwards. Rythian managed to escape the almost certainly lethal strike by rolling off of the bed, managing to grab his dagger before the attacker swung at him again. The enderborn ducked again and leapt to his feet, parrying yet another blow.

Rythian dodged, blocked and side-stepped each and every attack until he saw a far too familiar shine begin to run up the length of his attackers blade. Panic flooded his mind; his thoughts ran as the powerful sheen continued to spread up the sword. The glow was the activation of the enchantments in the blade and assured his death.

The mage had to think quickly and lunged for his opponents hand, but it was too little, too late. The figure had anticipated the attack and swiftly and easily avoided the dagger; the attacker jabbed at Rythian's chest but the enderborn managed to knock it away, sacrificing the Enderbane which snapped clean in two.

The attacker took advantage of their opponent's situation and sent a rally of attacks his way, unfortunately, the mage was used to having his magic in a fight and had only recently learned not to use it; so, without his supernatural speed, he couldn't avoid all of the attacks, one of which landed on his skull and caused him to stumble forwards.

The mage dropped to the ground, holding his head in his trembling hands and felt blood trickle between his fingers. The tip of his attacker's blade forced his chin up and he saw the face he knew so well.

The figure smirked as they saw the saddened look in Rythian's cloudy purple eyes. A gloved hand shifted into a better position and the hilt of the sword.

"Nighty, night mage."


End file.
